


Restless

by Manderine (Manderin3)



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Just a couple o' soft gays..., M/M, Nightmares, Octo Expansion DLC, Octo Expansion DLC Spoilers, Post-Octo Expansion DLC, cheesy writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-31 04:49:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17842769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manderin3/pseuds/Manderine
Summary: After hanging out together, Neil (Agent 8) helps put Rodney (Agent 3) to sleep, but he is soon troubled by a nightmare.





	Restless

**Author's Note:**

> Rodney is my Agent 3 OC, and Neil is my Agent 8. At this point in this fic, they've been dating for a bit. This one is self-indulgent as hell and a bit similar to my Darkest Dungeon fic, so rip. Read about my boys here!: https://queenofepic.tumblr.com/post/178937611042/my-splatoon-agent-ocs-i-figured-before-i-start

“No, really, I think you need to sleep,” Neil said.

“What? … No, I wanna stay up with you,” Rodney replied while suppressing a yawn, which managed to escape, anyways. He clearly wasn't adjusted to being awake in the late hours, unlike Neil.

The Octoling got up from the couch, helping heave a drowsy Rodney to his feet. It wasn't the first time Neil had stayed over, for when the two had a day to themselves, they tended to stay and chat well into the night. He could tell early on that the Inkling always fell victim to his stricter sleeping schedule.

“... don’t you want to use the bed?” he asked Neil, “Or, I mean, we could share…” he added, geekily blushing at his own proposal.

Neil laughed it off. “No, no. You know I won’t be asleep for awhile, now. Besides, I can rest on the couch. I can stay as you fall asleep, if you'd like.”

Rodney smiled. “I'd like that.” He opened the door to the bedroom, and swiftly collapsed on the bed. As he wrapped himself in sloppily-laid sheets, Neil sat down on the large windowsill, using a discarded pillow to rest against his back. His foot collided with something, and he reached down to find his notebook and pen. He must have left it there earlier.

Neil set it in his lap, thumbing through the first few pages. It was nothing more than a personal collection of his poems and songs, or whatever chicken scratch he felt like getting down. He remembered receiving the journal as a house-warming gift from Pearl and Marina, who read his mem cake poems and insisted he continue to write. His thumb stopped at a random page, and he opened the book to read the stanzas written down in sloppy Inkish:

 

_How could someone like me be loved?_   
_All I ever seem to see_   
_Are the flaws and stumbles_   
_The glaring imperfections_   
_That made me feel unworthy_   
  
_But then you smile_   
_With a tilted grin_   
_And call me beautiful, talented_   
_Worthy_   
_Words I had never associated with myself_   
  
_But then I see you do the same_   
_And I'd have to remind you_   
_Just as you had done with me_   
_It makes me think_ _  
We aren't that different_

 

Neil grimaced as he flipped over the page. He wouldn't be caught dead with this by anyone, let alone Rodney. How would he react to something so sappy written about him?

He glanced out the window, his eyes glazing over the blurring fluorescent lights of the city. Even in the dead of night, Inkopolis Square was as lively as ever. Neil traced a water droplet with his finger as it slid down the glass pane, hearing the soft sounds of the rain. Rain was a fascinating subject, one he could never experience underground. He almost wanted to go outside, but he didn’t want to bother when it was already so late at night.

Suddenly, he heard Rodney shuffling within his sheets. Neil froze, afraid that his own movements had woken him up. Rodney paused for a moment, but then started turning again, completely unprompted. Neil could hear a soft groan escape him. He carefully sat up and started to approach the bed, quietly calling out his name, “... Rodney?”

As if he was responding to the call, Rodney’s face scrunched up before he turned away on his side. “N-no,” he muttered, his shoulders tense.

Neil began to worry even more. He knelt onto the mattress, leaning forward to rest a hand on Rodney’s shoulder, calling his name again. He immediately jumped back, clinging to himself even harder. “Stop!” He barked, “Get off of me!”

Neil recoiled, concerned and confused. Rodney’s arms twitched as if he was on the verge of breaking free of some supposed restraint, his body shaking in pure fear. His chest began to rapidly rise and fall, each breath a war against himself. “I--I can’t breathe!”

In a swift motion, Neil grabbed Rodney and sat him upright, gently shaking his shoulders to wake him up. “Rodney! Are you okay?”

With a loud gasp, his eyes flew open, which anxiously darted around the room before falling on Neil’s. “What’s going on?”

“Everything’s alright,” Neil said, “it was just a bad dream.”

Rodney’s face softened slightly in relief, but soon transitioned into sorrow. Tears began to well into his eyes, his body slumping over in shame. “Oh, god. I’m sorry.”

Neil instinctively hugged Rodney as he practically fell into his arms. He shuddered as he began to sob, his head resting on Neil’s chest. Neil squeezed him as hard as he could, quietly murmuring soothing reassurement.

Rodney’s breathing soon settled, but the two still sat in each other’s embrace. They stayed that way for what felt like an eternity, Neil following the rhythm of Rodney’s heart beat. He could tell neither of them really wanted to let go.

In the dead silence, they eventually pulled apart. Neil went to take Rodney’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. He looked up to see Rodney’s eyes drifting off, avoiding eye contact. This worried Neil, for Rodney was usually very transparent about his feelings. He couldn’t imagine him hiding something like this for so long.

“If there’s something wrong,” Neil said, “you know you can tell me, right?”

Rodney sighed, his gaze following down to Neil's hand. He let go, slowly bringing his arm inwards. “I know. I just…” He grabbed his own hand close to his chest, missing Neil's clutch though he avoided it, “It's not that important. I didn't want you to worry.”

Neil reeled back in surprise. “Rodney, of course I'm going to worry! I need to know if--”

“No, that's not the point!” Rodney interjected, “You have enough going on with getting to the surface after going through all those trials…. Everyone was so happy for you, I didn’t want to take away from that. I didn’t want to undermine what you had went through. I don’t want you to worry about me before you worry about yourself!”

Neil gave a weak smile. “Well, you know it’s hard to do that,” he said, “We all really care about you.” _Especially me,_ Neil wanted to add, but he held his tongue, “One of the first things I had to learn is to not be ashamed to ask for help. If these dreams are recurring, you should talk to us, or even just talk to _me,_ I just--” He grimaced, struggling to articulate his concerns until an idea hit him.

He went back to the windowsill, grabbing his notebook. He searched for the poem he read earlier, clumsily climbed back on the bed, and held out the journal for Rodney to take.

“Here’s something I wrote,” Neil said, “I want you to read it.”

Rodney carefully took the book, albeit a bit puzzled. Neil anxiously watched him read, regret growing in the back of his mind. Was the writing too romantic, to the point where it’d weird him out? What if he couldn’t even understand what he wrote? Neil had just barely learned how to write Inkish, anyways. He began to panic, so he tried to explain himself:

“.... I was just thinking about you when I was writing it. You’ve done so much for me and everyone else, and you’re always so kind… but you’ve been so hard on yourself since it happened. You did all you could, you have to stop blaming yourself.”

Rodney looked up as he finished the poem, locking eyes with Neil. After a moment, he grabbed Neil into a strong hug, resting his chin on his shoulder.

“Is everything okay?” Neil said, struggling to readjust his trapped arms.

“Thank you… I didn’t realize how much I needed this. It was just so terrifying, losing control like that. Sometimes, it comes back in my dreams. I just can’t stop thinking about it; I never wanted to hurt you--” He stopped, choking up at the subject, as if it was forbidden to speak of it.

Repressing his own nervousness, Neil laid a soft kiss on Rodney’s cheek, cusping his hands under each side of the Inkling’s jawline. “It’s okay,” Neil reassured, “we’re both fine now. We’re safe. We don’t need to worry about it anymore.”

“.... I’m sorry, Neil. I’m kinda a mess, aren’t I?” Rodney added with a touch of humor in his voice.

Neil could tell Rodney was starting to feel better, and he smiled, wrapping his arms around Rodney once again. “No, you’re not! If anyone, it’s probably me.”

The momentum of the hug leaned them back until the two were lying back on the bed. “At least you’ve got talent!” Rodney rebutted.

“Really? You think my writing is good?”

“Absolutely! It’s real cute. I’m touched you wrote it about me. Of course, it does lean towards being painfully gay.”

They both laughed, curling closer towards each other. Neil wiggled his way closer until his head was nestled by Rodney’s shoulder. He exhaled, realizing he was more drowsy than he thought.

In a matter of minutes, the pair was soundly asleep. For Neil, it felt like the first time he was able to drift off so comfortably.


End file.
